The Revolution of the Reaver
by gryps incedio
Summary: PreSR1. Kain and co go on an adventure. Ch8! R
1. A Vampire Defiled

_Sadly, LoK belongs to Edios, not me. (sniffle!) Henry James' The Turn of the Screw is Henry James', as he is also his own, not mine either._

_I figure with Kainy-poo being thousands of years old he'd have plenty of time to catch up on any reading he might have missed out of. This is before SR1, but Kain is still Mr. Crinkly and everyone looks like they were in the SR1 opening movie shot, except Raziel, who is minus the wings of course._

_Kain: Mr. Crinkly? (cries in the corner)_

_(gasp! Runs to Kain) I mean Mr. Chibi! Mr. Chibi! You've always been chibi!_

_Any way…_

_This is pretty much a little adventure for him to promote my new favorite author._

**The Revolution of the Reaver**

Chapter I: A Vampire Defiled 

Within the throne room containing the ruined Pillars of Nosgoth, six figures stood in a semi-circle around a seventh lounging in a large and decorative chair in front of the Pillar of Balance. The six knew better than to disturb the man sitting in the throne; such a thing would anger him, and when he is irate, people tended to die. Thus, they waited patiently until their master would take notice they were there.

Kain reclined on his throne before the Pillar of Balance with a small worn book in one hand, held open at the second-to-last page, as he gently grasped the hilt of his prize sword, the Soul Reaver, in his other. His golden eyes nimbly skipped from word to word in suspense, desperately seeking the end of the excitement contained within the pages. He leaned the Reaver against the side of his throne to use both hands now the cling to his novel. Soon he reached his goal, the last word at the bottom. Quickly, he turned the page, yet found it to be one of the useless blank pages of the book. There was nothing more.

Kain stared blankly at this page for some time while his mouth hung open ever so slightly. His lieutenants looked around, cleaned their claws, and did various other menial tasks to keep themselves busy while their ruler finished reading, their sire's actions unnoticed. Yet they were all snapped to attention upon hearing a fluttery thump on the floor before them.

Kain had dropped his book.

Surprised, they eyed the novel lying haphazardly at Kain's feet. Then the lieutenants were equally surprised, confused, and frightened as they beheld their sire's face. He had such a look of distress and destitution that it almost turned their stomachs to see him that way.

"What troubles you, sire? I have never seen you this way," asked an alarmed Raziel as he dared to approach him, offering a concerned gesture.

Kain leaned forward, holding his head in his claws. He looked up to Raziel still showing distress in his facial expression. All the lieutenants were quite disturbed from this spectacle. What could have possibly done this to the most powerful man in Nosgoth?

"I have just been _raped_," he announced, his words wobbling.

Raziel backed away aghast, his brothers doing the same. Suddenly fear overtook them. Their world was crashing down; Kain is the most powerful man in Nosgoth, yet in order to be a victim of such a revolting crime, the person doing the act would have to be stronger. Yet Kain is the most powerful man in Nosgoth! Their minds reeled as the dilemma bantered back and forth in their heads. Everything upon which they had learned and built their lives seemed to become lies in a single instant. Melchiah looked as if he would scream.

Kain blinked at the reaction of his lieutenants to his conclusion about himself. He stood up and sternly looked at his fledglings, placing his claws at his hips. "What is this fear I smell, and dare I say, _see_ from you?" he demanded. "Why do you look as if any moment the earth would swallow you whole?"

The brothers needed security again in any way possible. Taking the initiative, Rahab desperately threw himself upon Kain, grasping his shoulders tightly. "Sire! Please!" he pleaded. "Tell us who did this heinous crime to your body!"

Kain's brow shot up. Zephon joined Rahab, both hanging on their sire's shoulders. "The offender's torture will never end!" he yelled as Dumah, Turel, and Raziel crowded close to Nosgoth's ruler.

Kain started to become greatly annoyed. Melchiah, nearly in tears, dropped to his knees and frantically hugged his sire's left leg as if it was the only thing solid in the entire world. "Please," Melchiah begged. "You must be raised as the most powerful man in Nosgoth once again!"

Becoming quite irate at the display of affection and their notion that someone is stronger than he, he threw the lieutenants off of himself with telekinesis, the younger vampires flying every which way.

Kain stamped an angry foot and waved his angry arms a bit. "What is _wrong_ with you?" he bellowed. "Are you all morons? I wasn't _molested_; I assure you, such a thing would only come to pass if I am _dead._

(_Meanwhile in Kain's future, but Nosgoth's past, he lies quite deceased on the floor of the Avernus Cathedral, where a blue wraith man remembers this conversation and shudders violently.)_

"I had merely made a _relation_ of the state of mind in which I was left to being ravaged in such a way, since the emotions of confusion, anger, and misery are the same."

All the lieutenants let out a sigh of relief. The world was no longer plunging into darkness; all was as it was before. Turel managed to sit up from where he was thrown. "I see. Would it have been more understandable if you had said, 'like I was raped?'" Kain gave a menacing glance at Turel, who quickly decided to change the subject. "What did this to you sire?"

"_THIS DAMNED BOOK!"_ he roared, almost kicking it across the floor. Yet he stopped short, and picked it up instead, brushing the dirt from it.

"And its title?" asked Melchiah.

"The Turn of the Screw."

"Well, what is it about?"

"I do not know."

Raziel's brow furrowed at this statement. How could someone read a whole book and not know what it is about without being insane or stupid? This question of his master's sanity raced in his mind, and then vanished as quickly as it had come.

Once again, Kain's expression turned to one the brothers had not seen before. He had anxiety displayed on his face. "I-I don't know," he quickly stuttered desperately. "There is a governess taking care of children at a mansion with a maid, but then-then there are ghosts. They-they might not even be real; the governess sees them, yet the texts suggest she is in hysterics. Then the boy is killed somehow. Everything is in such ambiguity I cannot discern what exactly took place in the story."

Rahab blinked at Kain's supposed explanation. "Who is the author?"

"Henry James."

Zephon picked himself off the ground and dusted his clothes. "Good. A name. Now let's find him and make him suffer for what he has written."

Suddenly in a blind fury, Kain drew the Soul Reaver from the throne and thrusted in Zephon's direction. "You will do no such thing! I would _kill_ you for it!" Realizing what he was doing, he quickly calmed himself and put away his sword. "He is not a bad writer. In fact this is the best book I've ever hated."

"What?"

Kain cleared his throat. "It is wonderfully written, the dialects of the characters are accurate to where they originate, and it is a great narrative." He paused. "Yet I detest this book for what it has done to me!" He threw it on his throne and turned his back to it.

The lieutenants were quite confused. Suddenly, Kain developed a plan to rid him of those horrible emotions. He used his telekinesis once again, this time to bring all his fledglings to their feet.

"Come," he called as he began walking out of the throne room. "We shall take a journey to absolve these sensations from me." The lieutenants did as they were told, and Kain gained a sinister grin on his continence. "Soon, Human Henry," he leered too low for anyone save himself to hear, "I shall have you clarify the message of your work."

_Oooo! Kain is out to discover the undiscoverable! _

_Kain: And such a wanton display of wordplay YY: The Turn of the Screw, __The Revolution of the Reaver..._

_  
But I hope you liked it. :)_

_Kain: (irate huff) Thank you for almost making this into one of those smut fangirl stories! (muttering) Damn humans always thinking of me sexually…_

_It wasn't meant to be that way. Plus, don't poke fun at fangirls; some may be reading this right now, and will forever hate me and never review! Besides, you shouldn't complain. Just think of it: if ever you had the urge to … um… "fufill" yourself, you could. Every man's dream._

_Kain: (scoff) Like I would want a human…_

_Cut it out. Now!_

_Kain: (sigh) Fine. (unemotionally) Oh, baby. I want women. All the time. Maybe even possibly men._

_Better._

_And if you are wondering why Kain would feel such a way after reading The Turn of the Screw, get a copy of that short story and find out for yourself!_

_I read on a library site that Kain's reaction is quite normal for this particular work of Henry James._


	2. Dumah cannot read a map

**The Revolution of the Reaver**

**Chapter ii: Dumah cannot read a map**

The seven vampires briskly strode through the desolate land of the once beautiful Nosgoth. Kain, of course, led the party, as the lieutenants followed relatively single-filed in order of their birth. They had been journeying for hours now, and the young vampires glanced around slightly bored as they blindly followed their master.

"I suspect you are wondering," Kain called back to them, "as to what destination this journey is leading." He stopped and turned to his now curious fledglings. "I cannot give you anything substantial as to where we shall find ourselves, but I do know this: Henry James is out there somewhere, and I intend to find him."

Melchiah cocked his head. "Why would you expend so much energy searching for this human, sire?"

Kain eyed him menacingly, stopping the inquiry. Raziel, being the only one of the brothers that understood their sire in any way, had an idea as to why he bothered to make this trip: he was bored. There had been no threats by the Sarafan of late, and even he was becoming quite restless. Yet he knew better than to say that aloud. Turning ahead once again, Kain motioned his lieutenants forward. "Do not fret: I do not expect this to be a long expedition." He waved his hand dismissively. "Dumah, make yourself useful: direct our little throng in the direction of the nearest town."

The bulky vampire scratched his head as he critically studied the old map Kain had given him. "Well, if we continue proceeding as we are, and make a right _that way_," he directed, pointing to the west, "then we shall arrive in the town of—" He paused. Bringing the map closer to his eyes and squinting, he slowly and strainfully tried his best to pronounce the name. "Mi – elk – snnah – me – if … by twilight."

Rahab turned to Dumah and furrowed his brow, trying to look to the map. "Are you sure you are using the correct pronunciation? I have never heard a name such as the one in question."

Dumah angrily pulled away from his brother, pressing the chart against his body. "Lord Kain has given _me_ the duty of navigating our trip, and _only I_ will do so!"

Kain sighed. "Rahab," Kain commanded exasperated, "refrain from bestowing upon your brother adversity." Rahab turned from his brother with an angry defeated look. "Dumah: do not crumple my map." The young vampire, startled by the sharpness of his words, thrust the chart as far from his chest as possible. "And both of you: stop this asinine bickering!" He shook his head. Vorador had always believed a sire's duty is much akin to that of a father's, yet only until he had fledglings of his own did he realize the accuracy of that statement.

The elder vampire pointed ahead. "We shall continue to Mielksnnameif and plan our course of action from there."

After many hours of seemingly directionless wandering, the whole band of vampires was becoming quite irate, except Dumah, who could not discern why the village was not in sight.

"I do not understand, sire," he desperately stuttered as they continued in their mindless drifting. "The map reads that it should be _here_. Yet I do not see any sign of buildings or even of construction."

"I will hear no more excuses; I want results! Why are we not at" —he turned to Raziel— "what was it?" —Raziel shrugged as Kain turned back— "Milksnamurf?"

"Mielksnnameif," corrected Rahab.

"Mielksnnameif. That is the most reliable map I have ever known; it guided me in my journeys as a fledgling." Dumah instantly became even prouder of himself, now realizing the sentimental importance of the papyrus chart cradled in his arms. For this one moment in his unlife, he felt even more important to Kain than Raziel, his firstborn and suspected favorite.

Zephon crossed his arms over his chest as they all continued forward. "Are we certain Dumah is even reading it right?" He placed a condescending glare upon Dumah. "We all know of his … handicap."

Dumah looked as if he could kill his brother any minute now. Kain was becoming quite irate. "Would you stop declaring your brother as mentally challenged for _one evening_!" He rubbed his temples, a headache creeping slowly into his skull.

Zephon looked away. "I was actually referring to his reading disability."

"Oh yes. Quite."

Dumah angrily huffed as Kain's throbbing ache started to recede. "I _can_ read. I just do so slowly." The glares of the other vampires dug into him. "To fully understand what is written," he hurriedly added.

The rest of the vampires, except Kain, scoffed at his notion. Kain of course did not believe that statement, but he made it a point not to openly insult his fledglings. Or at least try not to.

Finally, and much to all of their surprise, the intrepid crew found themselves in a village. They stopped at the fringes of the town, for this place looked very strange: all the buildings were falling apart, the road looked as if it had not been cared for in centuries, and surrounding this village was a terribly fearsome bog, which produced an ominous mist that flooded the town.

Kain, being quite experienced in such matters, knew these to be the divulging signs of a dangerous area. Thus, he curiously glanced from side to side, trying to remember if he had ever been here in his past. He was certain this was new to him.

"Odd," he slowly articulated deep in thought. "I have never seen a bog in Nosgoth's southern regions. Where are we?"

"This must be Mielksnnameif," Turel resolved strongly. He started to walk forward, his head held high with pride, when Kain shot an arm out in front of him. He shook his head. Turel questionably stared at his master.

There must be a reason he had never been here. "Dumah," Kain called over his shoulder, "let me see that map." It was passed to him as he studied it diligently. Kain perplexedly stared at it. Oddly, he could not recognize this area of Nosgoth; this was becoming too weird for his taste. Then, Kain found the underlying problem that has dogged their heels, the cause of their mindless wandering and his own confusion.

"Dumah!" Kain raged to the startled vampire. "You idiot! You have been reading the damn thing upside down the _whole time_!" He corrected the map, now holding it to where he could recognize it. "We are actually in the village of--"

Kain's eyes went wide in realization. Seeing this look on their sire's face discerned one conclusion from the lieutenants: They were in serious peril.

A muffled moan was heard coming from the streets of the town. A single man stood in the street, looking half-dead. No, fully dead, much to Kain's dismay, now confirming his worst-case scenario. Many other people afflicted the same as the first came swarming out of buildings, holes, anything that could hold a human.

Kain turned to Dumah, now understanding how perilous the situation in which he had led his fellow vampires had become. "Thank you, you ignoramus! You have just led us to Tiemannschliem--" he turned to the approaching zombies, drawing his reaver – "the village of the undead!"

_

* * *

__Kain: Damn Dumah… idiot._

_Quite; but at least you get to kill people, right?_

_Kain: I suppose so… (Just realizing) Hey! You had more "connotation" again!_

_What?_

_Kain: "Throbbing?"_

_You know; when you have a really bad headache, you seem to have a throbbing head?_

_Kain: You just said "throbbing head!"_

_(glaring) You are looking for this stuff, aren't you?_

_Kain: I am just making sure you don't get any ideas._

_(shudder; not in a good way!)_

_Hey you out there! If you have any ideas for what the "Intrepid crew" should face, write me!_

_Kain: Yeah. Review and such!_

'_Twould be awesome!_


	3. Good Undead v Bad Undead

**The Revolution of the Reaver**

**Chapter iii: Good Undead v. Bad Undead**

The long-abandoned village squatted eerily next to a stinking bog, from which mist poured and filled the ill-kept streets. Collapsed buildings lay haphazardly along the roads, covered in dirt, moss, and mold. Very few structures were intact enough to not cascade partially into the avenues of the village. Half-rotten zombies stumbled towards the intrepid crew. Many were missing limbs or some other important piece of their anatomy.

Kain aridly looked away from the approaching danger with an annoyed growl. He could not believe this was happening. First, one of his favorite books had a bad ending; then Dumah lead him and his fledglings to no where near he wished to go; and now, cannibalistic zombies were attacking! This has been a terrible day.

"Why do you assume these zombies are cannibalistic, sire?" asked Melchiah in interest. Kain wheeled around to his youngest fledgling. How had he known what was on his mind? The vampire king was world-renown for his expressionless gaze and ability to hide his thoughts from others. Had his youngest developed mental abilities? His mind flashed to a past lieutenant with similar powers. Kain absently pawed at the thin scar that ran across his chest and abdomen.

Melchiah had not taken his golden eyes off his sire and noticed he was thinking deep thoughts. He raised a hairless eyebrow. Perhaps he surprised him? "I apologize, my lord," he bowed in submission, his bald head reflecting the sunlight, "but you were talking aloud to yourself again."

Kain's suspicion fell away as he mentally kicked himself. He thought he had broken himself of that habit. Oh well, many less than sane people spoke to themselves; he felt no different from any sharing his affliction.

He snapped to attention. "Zombies are always cannibalistic, Melchiah," he answered finally. Kain shook his head; do his fledglings know anything?

Kain returned his attention to the incoming doom. They still were too far to be dangerous. Much too far by Raziel's reckoning. He called this to his master. "Is it not possible to turn and leave these creatures to their own dealings? They are moving too slow to catch us, lord." He stood by his master.

All his lieutenants turned, interested in Kain's response. Their sire just stared coolly at Raziel for a few moments. A talon shot out and thumped him hard across the back of his skull, flinging his head forward and ruffling his jet-black hair. The first lieutenant painfully rubbed the area. Before he could repress it, a snigger let loose from Zephon, awfully covered too late by a claw, causing both his elder brother and his master to eye him threateningly. He bowed his head submissively. Kain and Raziel returned to their previous engagement. "Where is the fun in unlife," the vampire lord hypothetically questioned as he leaned on the Soul Reaver, its serpentine blade more than capable of supporting his weight, "if one is challenged and does not rise to the occasion? Further, we cannot allow these brainless undead to run amok!"

"But sire, they do have brains," pointed out Turel as the closest walking undead, which was still to far to be a threat. It had a gaping hole in its cranium and the organ it contained was clearly visible. It then tripped over its own feet and its exposed brain was knocked loose by the sudden jolt, becoming nothing more than a pink scrambled mess as the zombie tried to rise to its feet. Kain raised a brow at his second-born. "Although they seem not to be using them at the moment," he corrected himself. The sun hid behind thick clouds.

All the vampires glared disgusted at the zombies except Dumah, who was still confused. "Lord," he asked as the enemies continued to approach, "what is so erroneous concerning the undead having freedom of movement? We are undead, after all."

Kain shot him an exasperated look. "Dumah, the vast depth of your stupidity to this day still amazes me." He placed a leather-gloved claw to his temple, his headache starting to creep back into his head. "I assure you the differences between vampires and zombies are insurmountable." He sighed as the bulky vampire cocked his head, still baffled. "If I must speak to you in a way you can better understand," he acidly spat, "then so be it: Vampire drink blood. Most Vampire smart. Vampire good. Zombie stupid. Zombie eat flesh of anything that moves. Zombie _very_ bad."

Dumah looked away in embarrassment, aware of his lord's mockery. The other brothers laughed at his stupidity. "He spoke in Caveman!" Zephon cackled. The rest of the lieutenants howled in glee as the heavyset vampire turned a deep shade of red.

Kain, despite his happiness that someone thought something he said was funny, raised his free talon for silence. His headache now pounded within his skull full-force. The vampire lord sighed once again and drew his prize double-handed sword, the Soul Reaver, for a second time ready for battle. The mist flooded past the streets, obscuring the enemies to mere shadows. He smirked; the best cure he knew for anything that annoyed him is death.

And it is a bad day to be a zombie.

Kain loosed a horrific battle cry and charged, his lieutenants following close behind. The zombie masses stared in wonder at the speeds vampires can achieve. They strode directly into the mist, where the shadows of their enemies lie. As the few remaining meters closed rapidly between them, Kain launched himself at the undead crowd, doubling his celerity. With various limbs and body parts flying everywhere, the vampire lord cut deep into the multitude. He was now completely surrounded by hundreds of mindless undead desperately clamoring over each other and reaching to grasp him. A heavy sweep of the Reaver relieved many of them of those limbs.

Yet they continued to advance. Zombies missing their legs hugged Kain's cloven feet, desperately trying to fill their mouths wit his flesh. All that was needed to remove them was a quick kick. As soon as he did this, however, more latched onto him, now also grabbing his legs. He lifted one leg, slipping it out of the hands of the zombies as he once again swung the Reaver at more advancing towards him, slicing them in half. He repeated this for his other leg, hacking and slashing his foes to bits.

Despite his valiant efforts to keep his enemies off of him, they still managed to wrap themselves around Kain's legs, and now, hips. He continued to savagely slash and cleave the flesh-hungry undead, yet still they kept coming. Finally, he resorted to allowing them to throw themselves on him, killing them, then climbing atop the dead in hope the height would conceal him in the mist and discourage the zombies' attacks.

Meanwhile, the lieutenants fought for their lives. Rahab and Zephon fought together against each other's backs, and thus kept themselves relatively safe from any flesh-hungry undead. Melchiah hopped from place to place and from cloven foot to cloven foot, felling the zombies he could and avoiding the rest. Armed with a two-handed sword, unlike his brothers, Dumah used his weight and strength to charge, crush, and slash through their enemies as they showed through the mist; Turel followed close behind, finishing any left animate and protecting his brother from attacks from behind. Raziel, being the elder and stronger of the lieutenants, casually cut down any non-vampiric undead that came near. He strode from brother to brother, slicing and gutting any problematic foes.

They continued in this way for many minutes, felling scores of zombies; Rahab and Zephon developed a small mound of dead around them, giving extra protection. Soon the numbers of attackers were dwindling. The lieutenants sped their endeavors to kill the last of the undead as quickly as possible. After many more moments of fighting, only a scraggily few remained. Raziel threw himself at the last zombies, and with one fatal swoop of his blade, he separated them from their heads. The younger brothers gave impressed gestures as they wiped the drippy gore from their weapons. Following sheathing their swords, a loud muffled groan broke through the mist and echoed off the collapsed walls. The lieutenants blinked at each other in confusion; surely they did not leave any alive? Just then, the mist fell away enough to leave jus a slight opaque haze. They turned towards the origin of the sound, towards where they last saw their vampire king.

The lieutenants stared amazed at the spectacle before them. A twenty-five meter mountain of corpses and severed limbs loomed over them, and atop Kain struggled waist-deep to end the unlives of the remaining few zombies that had scrambled on top of this mound to him. He skillfully swung his twisting blade over his head and cleaved open a skull and slashed through the stomach of the last undead. Its entrails sprung out from the slit, and sickly pale green coils threw themselves across Kain's left shoulder.

Raziel slid a claw through his jet-black locks as he gaped in awe. The setting sun broke through the clouds, sending golden rays in all directions, behind the vampire king. The blood and gore haphazardly splashed over his chest and shoulders caught the illumination, giving him an unearthly glow. He held the Soul Reaver high above his head, its meandering blade glinting, as he placed a gloved claw roughly on a corpse in front of him, his eyes shining molten gold.

The brothers stood in astonishment for a few silent moments. "Well?" shouted the irate vampire lord. "Will one of you lend me a hand? I am stuck fast!" He struggled for freedom from the carcasses, but all he accomplished was entrapping himself further. A disgusted outcry loosed from Kain's lips, startling his fledglings to their senses.

"What is it, sire?" called Rahab in slight concern.

"I just stepped into someone's open skull," he howled, "and I cannot release my foot from it! This is not a pleasant experience; lend me your assistance on the instant!"

His lieutenants quickly scurried atop the mound of death to aid their king in his predicament.

* * *

_Kain: (mortified) Ew! Zombie brains!_

_Hee, hee! Your feet are all nasty!_

_Kain: I notice you mentioned my "cloven feet" many times._

_Yep, your cute cloven feet._

_Kain: (beaming) You think I am cute?_

_Completely adorable._

_Kain: (disappointed) Not handsome?_

_No. Just funny-looking. Maybe I would keep you as a pet._

_Kain: (cries in the corner)_

_Take it like a man!_


	4. Tainted Blood

_Sorry this has taken sooooo long. If you want to read the terrible and irritating story, check out my profile._

_Well! Here we are again! Hopefully, this one will not be boring!_

_For Malice-Pyro-Valcom: Heh, I'm glad you liked it ! But I will add in some wraith humor later._

_For Smoke: I'm glad you like the imagery in my work. I really try to convey what I'm seeing to the audience. But I am sad the lieutenant part bored you. Although the muddlement (Kain: Is that even a word!) was intentional to convey the chaos of the battle; yes, I know, lay off the English class crap…_

_Raziel, accompanied by his brothers: (irate huff) What, we're not cool enough to fight along side our sire now?_

_For Abbil: Glad you had fun:) (snicker!) You're diiirrrtyyyy!_

_Kain: Brains…_

_Look, this one is more gross than funny, but oh well. _

**The Revolution of the Reaver**

**Chapter iv: Tainted Blood**

With some strength and a few tugs, the lieutenants finally managed to free the vampire king from his situation. Yet not without trouble, for when they pulled their lord loose, the brothers had used too much of their power, which caused that final wrench to send them all tumbling down the mountain of dead. The vampires landed unceremoniously in a heap at the foot of the slain mound, Kain on top of the brothers, and at the very bottom, under all that weight, lay Melchiah.

Just glad he was out of his predicament, Kain leapt off his fledglings and wildly scraped his soiled cloven foot on the rocky floor, trying his best to clean it. Rahab crossly slapped a claw to the soil.

"Damn static forces!"

Slowly the rest of the brothers came to their feet, yet the youngest needed help. Raziel and Turel hoisted him to his feet; all the while he muttered curses and insults. After successfully patting the dust from themselves, they turned to find Kain already intently studying his map. Zephon looked to the sky, only to catch the last light of the sun before it sank beneath the horizon.

It was night and they were hungry.

They crowded around their sire, save one, who stared at a felled body of a zombie: Dumah. It was just recently slain; red sludgy blood leaked from various abrasions and lesions. The lumbering vampire's stomach growled loudly. He could not help but lick his lips as the gelatinous fluid oozed from the cadaver. He glanced around. Kain and the rest seemed still occupied as to where they shall go next. Somehow, Dumah knew touching these dead was ill-witted, feeding or otherwise; after all, would not his lord and brethren had done so already? Yet he could not tear his mind from the drippy, almost chunky blood.

He arrogantly harrumphed to himself. He had drained strange and unseemly creatures on previous occasions. Some time ago, when Dumah was still a fledgling, he wandered from the Sanctuary and managed to lose himself in a deep forest for a good week. Luckily, his lord had taught him how to be silent. Yet all the humans around his area were too well armed to attack without the risk of death. After finding himself in a farmer's pasture, he discovered an enormous flock of sheep under the guard of a single dog. After felling that nuisance, he slaughtered a few livestock, fed, and sought cover under the canopy of trees.

A few days later from this, Kain finally found him wandering the same forest, very dirty and very hungry. The vampire king took him back to Sanctuary where he tended to his hunger and assorted diminutive wounds. The instant he was completely fit, Kain assaulted him with loud angry shouts. He made it a point to give Dumah nothing but the harshest torment without directly striking him to show his other children what happens when one makes the busy overlord worry over something completely one's fault.

He shuddered from the memory. Still, he will feed. Picking up the slain zombie, he sank his fangs into its neck, forcibly sucking. The viscosity of the being's blood was something to be left desired, and it tasted quite peculiar, yet he did not care. It was filling and that was all that mattered.

Slightly raised voices from his company broke his thoughts. He dropped the body. His brothers were becoming quite impatient with their thirst and wished not to travel much further to sate it, yet Kain still insisted the next township should be at least somewhere 'away from the edge of oblivion', as according to the vampire king. Dumah suppressed a hearty chuckle; how terribly his master hated backwater villages! "Lord Kain, what about Mournfair? That is a nearby city, correct?"

Kain, regarding his servant with an unreadable expression, as always, blinked. "That's retarded." He returned to studying his map.

"How so?" Dumah pouted.

The others turned to face the outspoken one, and they stared at each other silently for some time before someone finally spoke. "Is that not the city the humans built upon rafts over the Lake of Tears," Zephon aridly reminded.

Dumah tried to protest, stating they were experienced enough to not fall into the water, yet Raziel cut him short. "It has nothing to do with our discretion," he explained annoyed, "but with how long our kind has not made ourselves superior there. No one more important than a few lowly traveling vampires has seen need to journey this far north for two centuries; who knows how the local inhabitants shall react to our arrival?"

Dumah stared at his feet, defeated. Sometimes he felt rather dejected.

Perceiving the small whine from his towering son, Kain shook his head. He had always intended for his fledglings to feel equal in respect, even if it was not true. The vampire king sighed. "Dumah, under normal circumstances, I would heed your advice and proceed there," he soothed. Dumah's frown washed away into a beaming grin. "If you would, do you have any other nearby cities to suggest?" He silently congratulated himself for avoiding another possible uprising. Unhappy subjects, especially in the ranks of lieutenants, can lead to disaster if he does not remain wary. Of all things his early years as a general has taught, this was possibly the most important lesson to Kain.

Still smiling, Dumah placed his claw to his chin. Kain had asked his recommendation, and he was not about to disappoint him. He took a deep breath and started to give the subject matter as much concentration as his brain was willing to give. As he pondered, he felt a distinct heat build in his gut. This puzzled the looming vampire; it cannot be anticipation, so he became resolute just to ignore it. But soon, the heat grew, and traveled to his forehead, his arms, his legs, and growing ever more searing.

Although it seemed like forever to Dumah, only seconds had really past. Kain did not have to wait long for Dumah's answer. He grabbed his abdomen. A loud groan was all that slipped past his dark lips as the bulky vampire started to fall to his knees.

Kain raised his head from his map. "Ug?" asked a confused overlord with a raised brow. He glanced at his fledgling just in time to watch him plummet to the ground.

All gathered around Dumah, who still lay groaning, crutching his gut.

"What is wrong now?" Kain huffed.

"Oooooh," the lumbering vampire moaned, perspiration starting to build upon his brow. The wretched burning had become much worse. "That blood … . Something was _wrong_ with it!"

Kain furrowed his brow. Blood? What blood? Then it hit him like a tone of bricks. "Dumah," he purred, hiding his ire, "did you drink from one of these zombies?" The addressed nodded as he curled in upon himself. The vampire king hissed. "Did I not tell you those things were bad? Did I not make myself clear when I clearly expressed the dangers of these creatures?" He proceeded to grouse to himself. "Why am I constantly surrounded by incompetence? Is it just me? Do I somehow possess a natural attractive quality to stupid people?" He returned his attentions to Dumah, now quite infuriated. "Have I not told you to start thinking before you do anything that could possibly hurt you?" The crumpled youngling vampire started to protest, but Kain interjected. "What have I always advised you? Stay away from _stupid_! If you look at something, hear something, or even _think_ something, and say 'that is stupid', then _stay away_!"

He threw his hands in the air in exasperation. Now rethinking the wisdom of taking his fledglings with him, Kain effortlessly scooped up his son and started walking west. The healthy lieutenants followed dutifully.

"Lord," Melchiah wondered, striding to the left side of the elder vampire, "will Dumah be alright?"

Kain sighed. "Yes, Melchiah. He will be fine."

Rahab jogged to the right side of his master. "Yet I read that the transfusion of saliva or blood would turn one into a cursed undead oneself."

Once again, Kain sighed. "He is _already_ a cursed undead. How undead can one man become? He will be fine; his only punishment is a stomach ache that will plague him for some time, likely a few hours." He decided to change Dumah's position; he threw him over his shoulder. "Come my servants; we will be proceeding to Mournfair after all."

* * *

_Kain: Damn! Why is Dumah so stupid?_

_Isn't he anyway?_

_Kain: Yes, but really! (just remembering) But wait; 'static forces'?_

_That is the force required to break the friction force in order to move an object at rest._

_Kain: Physics? Why!_

_I don't know; Rahab seems the type to have read something about it. Plus, it is good to have smart people humor once in a while…_

_Kain: Not that you are one as such…_

…

_So what, no innuendos?_

_Kain: None that I noticed. (to you! Yes you!) Review this! 'Twould make her happy._


	5. Cat of War

_Hey guys! Got a new one:)_

_Razielim Vampress: Hey, can't help but like the ol galoot! (hugs Dumah) This time, Kain is my whipping boy!_

_Kain: Oh great…_

_The Twisted Sister: Thank you:) Hope you like this chappy as well!_

_Malice-Pyro-Valcom: I'm glad you saw the humor of it all; thought you of all people would have caught the sheep sucking joke as well… Oh well._

_Hope you guys like the celebration here!_

**Revolution of the Reaver**

**Chapter v: Cat of War**

From an outsider's view, a celebration was in the making. People carefully decorated the walls of the tall buildings along the main lane with scraggily flowers and colorful banners. It seemed to be a race against time; nearly every able bodied people, from dirty peasants to armored guards, to the well-dressed rich, quickly and fearfully threw together traditional and contemporary decorations and objects, all under the stern direction of a certain few. They did not hail from this region, which was easily discernable from their unique attire and armor. Each of these men and women had strange runes displayed somewhere on their clothes.

"Hurry and raise that banner, humans!" screeched a woman wearing a long gray and black robe. This one was the overall leader of the decorations. "I want this street to look perfect for their arrival!" She brushed her long onyx hair out of her face with some contempt. She could not conceive how these mortals could ever presume that their great sire would forgive his advent festival for being quaint!

A man of the same nature approached her. "Laylane, the humans selected to drop the confetti are in place and are awaiting instruction."

She rubbed her hands together in glee. Her plans were all falling into place. "Have one of our kind at every differently outfitted cluster to make sure things happen as they should." One side of the large banner suddenly fell on one side. "Get that fixed!" she acidly hissed as she pushed some human towards the malfunction. He and many others quickly pulled the ropes to level it and tied it to posts for its security.

A scantily silk-clad man swiftly strode to Laylane. "Sister," he called. She turned to him, wandering what news her scout had to deliver. "They come."

_This is it_, she thought_. Surely our lord and sire has not and will never receive such a greeting ever again. _

The approaching party was now visible on the horizon, and she knew it would not be much longer now. The mortals of this small city were now ordered to take their appropriated places and prepare to fulfill their duty to their lord.

Kain strode purposefully into the city and towards the main street, easily recognized as decorated. The brothers followed close behind, with Turel carrying the still unconscious Dumah. A large black banner stretching across the expanse of the street first caught their attentions. In bold red script it read, 'Welcome, Lord Kain and Lieutenants!' The inhabitants of Mournfair lining the lane were now visible to the vampires. Kain tilted his head; he had never seen humans doing as such for him, plenty of vampires, but never humans. He continued his heading, cautiously now, for he did not know what to expect.

Just as he placed a single cloven foot where the first of the mortals began, the crowd erupted into frantic cheers, dropping all the while the items they were given as instructed. Kain was surprised; humans cheering for him? He trod upon the red scraps thrown so respectively at his feet, and instantly recognized what they were. These were faux rose pedals made from very fine silk. Now bits of paper fell like brightly colored rain from the tall buildings, thrown from people hanging out of windows. They really did not spare anything for this.

Raziel, feeling his strengths quite well credited by this display, marched behind his sire with his head high and a respectable look on his face. Unfortunately, Turel could not claim the same expression. Carrying his ill brother at such a time made him feel like the group's pack mule. He sighed dejectedly as he walked behind his eldest brother. Rahab glanced around, trying to figure out their traditions by their celebration technique, while the other brothers smiled and proudly marched in the rear, enjoying this reception quite well.

Their advent march concluded at the end of the boulevard, at the city hall, the largest and most grand building in the whole city. There, Kain and his lieutenants proudly ascended the steps into the ornate hall, still adorned with the pedals and cheers of the people. The heavy wooden double doors were opened for them, and inside, great fires lit the immense room, all focuses leading to a majestic throne surrounded by lesser but still quite magnificent chairs. The doors closed noisily behind them as they entered. This was a much more intimate environment, with the fires giving a low lighting and the few people. Three beautiful women with long elaborate robes approached the seven men, and bowed respectively to first Kain then the rest, and dropped more pedals on the tile floor, beckoning them to proceed. Once again, they walked. Kain stepped on the dropped pedals and was instantly surprised. These were real rose pedals! He thought they were all dead now. Fifteen men and women wearing various clan runes stepped foreword as they approached the seats. This was a real treat!

Leylane caught the Kain's look of amusement and smiled to herself. They bowed to their masters and held out their hands towards the seats of honor. Kain gave a single nod and sat on the chair of most grandeur. The brothers took their respective seats according to how they normally sit at the campaign table in the Sanctuary of the Clans: Raziel at Kain's right, Turel at his left, and every one alternating between; Turel just slumped Dumah into his chair and took his own. The fifteen vampires dropped to their knees and bowed low, placing their faces to the ground as Leylane spoke. "O Lord Kain, ruler and master of all, we welcome you to the fair city of Mournfair." Kain acknowledged them and so they rose to kneeling. "We will attend you every need and offer you gi--" A painful moan loosed from the unconscious brother's lips, breaking Leylane's concentration. "--what happened to Lieutenant Dumah?"

"Something hopefully from which he will learn a valuable lesson," he groaned as he rubbed his temples.

She decided to drop that subject right there. "Well, sire," she continued uneasily, "we have the finest rooms in the city prepared for your stay. Please enjoy any and all the traditional and contemporary entertainments this city has to offer you." With that, all the worshippers took their leave. Kain heavily sighed, happy that all those people now are leaving him alone for a bit.

Dumah finally stirred and awoke, quickly looking from side to side, quite confused where he happened to be. "At last you decide to join us, Dumah. I am guessing you are feeling much better?" His son nodded embarrassed; from his quick glances around the room, he realized their had been a great reception to their arrival, and he had been drug all through it. "Out of curiosity," the vampire overlord began, "how have you come by knowledge of this place? It was not on the map."

"You are aware how my clan is always searching for better ways to attack the humans," he blatantly stated. "This city is known for its war dog breeding programs."

Kain placed a gloved claw to his temple, this time not in exasperation, but in thought. He then rose to his feet and beckoned his lieutenants to follow. "We will see if these war dogs are fit for our needs." The brothers did as motioned, but were confused why Kain would even consider dogs. Vampires already have a very sensitive sense of smell, and he did not seem to them as the type of man to become lonely and need a pet. Of course, He caught on to their befuddlement, and grumbled, "I have lived for over two thousand years. I am bored out of my wits most of the time, and feeding rebellious humans to hungry dogs would at least entertain me for a few hours." They just shrugged and proceeded behind their master as he stepped back outside.

Finding the main breeding area was not too difficult, with its large business sign and the constant badgering of the worshippers pointing them in the right direction; it took nearly all of Kain's strength not to kill anyone. The seven vampires entered the large ranch-like establishment, quite amazed at its accommodations to the breeding dogs, nursing mothers, and selling dogs. They all were obviously the same breed, but in different colors; some were black, others a ruddy color, some a grayish blue, and still others were blonde. Yet they all held the same rust colored socks and markings on their face and chest. A squat man with an unusually long black beard greeted them from a window in a nearby barn. "Hello, customers! Lord Kain, how can I help you?"

"I am interested in what you can offer in the matter of war dogs," he called. "Direct me to where you keep the ones for sale on the instant." The man nodded, his beard bouncing with each movement. He placed a callused hand on the windowsill and with a swirl of his potato-bag shirt, hopped out into the yard. The vampires walked quietly behind the man as he led them to the large sliding door of the barn. One good push and it was open.

Once again, Kain and his lieutenants were astounded at the great lengths the breeders went to make their dogs comfortable. Each mother dog had her own well-equipped whelping box, and all the puppies looked quite healthy. Kain then heard scratching noises that did not sound like dogs. "Heads up!" called the breeder. Suddenly a white fur ball flung itself at Kain's head from the rafters. He moved just in time to dodge the attack as it fell to the floor and scurried away. "Sorry. That damn thing won't go away!" The stubby man stopped a few pins down and gestured at the slumbering dogs. "These are old enough now to be separated from their mother."

Kain was quite confused with this. These were just puppies, only maybe two months old, yet these are being sold like already trained attack dogs? "These are but babies," he declared. "Where are your trained dogs?"

The man gave a toothy grin. "Ah you see, that is the best thing about my dogs," he cooed. "They are specially bred to have strong protection and territorial instincts, so no real training is needed, except house training if that is where they are to be." He gave a wide swing of his arm towards the puppies. "All that is needed is for them to imprint on the one who is to be protected or is to give them orders. They will do the rest." He reached down and grabbed a black one, and held it to Kain. He picked it up from underneath and stared into its big brown eyes. _Specially bred_. These would do—

The puppy began to relieve herself on Kain's leather pants. He cringed in disgust and shoved it back into the arms of the breeder. "Sorry, lord," he sighed. "She is just a baby, after all."

He gave him a stern look as he handed him a towel. "I should kill it! These are my good leather pants!" He looked down in despair at his now ruined pants as he patted the wet spots. Another white rocket went by, this time attaching itself into the thick flesh of the vampire kings back. Kain jumped and yelped in pain and surprise. The Lieutenants just stared in shock as Kain hopped up and down, trying to catch the little fur ball now crawling up and down his back, clawing into him.

Finally he got his senses back to him, and Kain stopped the small creature with his telekinesis. He then grabbed it by its scruff and angrily hauled it up to him, face to face.

Wide innocent golden eyes stared back at him. It was nothing more than a kitten. He stared back at it in wonderment. It then felt the need to attach itself to his face.

Once again he howled and peeled it off of himself, leaving small cut on his face that quickly healed as he spoke. "This kitten! Did you specially breed this as well?"

The man huffed. "Me breed that psycho cat? No."

Kain pondered as he held it by its scruff again, this time far from his body. He examined its beautiful sleek white fur and golden eyes. "And yet it was able to take me by surprise," he mused to himself. How was that possible? He's the most paranoid person he knows; he can feel eyes on him. Yet this little kitten got past all that as if Kain had no defenses at all. "I think I like this," he concluded. "How much do you want for it?"

Once again, the breeder huffed. "I will pay _you_ if you are willing to take that evil creature off my hands!"

Kain smiled; he was liking this kitten more and more. "No need," he added as an after thought as he began to leave the establishment, gently cradling the little white fur ball in his arms. "I shall call you," he cooed to his new companion as he checked its sex, "Lunatic. Loon for short." It purred a bit and snuggled against him. Zephon scoffed at his sire. He had intended to buy dogs to eat humans, and ended up with a kitten! He always knew his master to be an impulse buyer, but this was a ridiculous transaction! Sensing his unrest, Kain turned to his sulking son. "What troubles you, vampire?"

Zephon knew he shouldn't say anything, but his big mouth once again betrayed him. "This stupid cat! You came to that place to buy human-eating dogs, and you leave with an insane kitten that attacks you! I see not the wisdom of this!"

Kain just stared at his brazen son for a few moments, then spoke. "Get him, Loon." The small kitten launched himself from the vampire lord's bulky arms and dug its claws deep into Zephon's unprotected chest, causing him to cry out in pain. He desperately tried to catch the little menace, but it scurried on his body too fast. He continued to roar and yelp, desperately grabbing at the kitten, but to no avail. Kain turned to his stunned sons. "I thirst; do you as well?"

_

* * *

Kain: It urinated on me…_

_I know. Terrible, eh?_

_Kain: But at least I got a kitty:)_

_Raziel: Of course he gets all the good stuff…_

_Oh yeah, if you didn't know, these dogs are Dobermans. Such good guard dogs…_

_Read and Review!_


	6. Reminiscent Revelry

_Hey, peoples! Finally got the update! This one's much longer than the rest._

_Raziel: 0.o Took you long enough…_

_Oh well. This chapter has many time periods in it—_

_Kain: That's flashbacks…_

_(ahem) Present thought and activities are normal text, past are in italic. Paragraph-wise of course._

_Raziel: Of course._

_This is mostly a glimpse in the past of Kain and his sons._

_People, this is going to deal with subjects that may be a little hard to understand for some, but please just bear with me. I don't want any flames about this! It is clear my how women reacted and how he was rendered that he was intended to be a bishonen (pretty boy). Plus, I believe in artistic beauty, and if you can't get it … yeah._

_Meanwhile, I trust this will be my last update for a long while; I am leaving soon, and I know for certain I won't be able to do anything for two months, but after that, if I am, 'twill be far in between, I assure you._

_Kain: Oh yes. The Navy._

_Yep. But enough of this!_

**The Revolution of the Reaver **

**Chapter vi: Reminiscent Revelry**

It was night in Mournfair and all were happy. Moths flew gaily around street lanterns, bats merrily hunted them; even the frail people who lived here had no worries of the dark. This night was special. This night, there was to be celebrations. The lord of Nosgoth had found the commiseration to visit this small city and grace it with his continual presence until morning. Of course, he would expect a lively reaction to such an honor. The city commons was ornate with paper lanterns and banners, game and gambling stands lining the lanes. Humans packed into this large arboreal acreage, bringing gifts for their masters and money for their own entertainment.

At the center of this large festival sat Kain and his six lieutenants. Once more, they sat on large lavished chairs, Kain having the largest, and once again, the seven vampires found themselves addressing the same younglings as earlier. "I hope we have made your stay a pleasant one, masters," Leylane bowed. Kain nodded once in response. Seven human women, all beautiful in their own accord, made a line behind the younglings, each of them holding majestic goblets. "Of course, you must thirst by now," the vampiress leered. The women stepped forward and shakily handed the goblets to waiting clawed hands. The tall blonde, pale with fear, nearly dropped her offering into Raziel's lap. He caught it with ease while regarding the bumbling human with a raised eyebrow.

The lieutenants waited patiently for their sire's word to start drinking as Kain stared at his cup, gazing curiously into its liquid depths. He glanced to Leylane inquiringly, and she nodded in assurance. "I made sure your blood was made as you wished, sire." With that in mind, Kain gave the gesture for he and his sons to begin enjoying their drink. A great cry of elation sounded, and the festival finally begun.

After a few sips, Turel turned to the vampire lord. "Sire, what is it that you ordered to be different from our blood?" His brothers looked towards Kain in anticipation.

He leaned back into his throne, grateful for his beverage. "I ordered mine to be alcoholic." They blinked in surprise. Alcoholic? Kain stared at his sons incredulously. "They said they were organizing a party. Did you actually believe I would not participate at all?" They nodded, and mentioned he never drank at their social gatherings. "You do not serve alcohol," he growled. "I am not about to bring my own, and risk portraying myself as a drunk!"

After some time and some goblets later, Kain stood up and popped his neck. Raziel stared; he usually does such acts when he is about to engage in battle. Did he plan to slaughter these humans? "You people stay here," Kain ordered, his words slightly slurred. "I am going … over there. Hold the stronghold whilst I depart." And he was gone, lost in the crowds of humans.

"What is he doing? Where is he going?" asked a confused Melchiah. Raziel just shrugged. "You were staring right at him!" he angrily huffed. "How can you not know where he went?"

Raziel stood and adjusted his clan throe. Melchiah had always been skittish without his sire, and somehow, the condition of his voice alerted his intuition of trouble. "We should find him." The others glared at him suspiciously. "To make sure he does not find himself in a battle," he quickly added. They merely scoffed. Raziel proceeded to look for his master, not bothering to wait for his brothers who were now scrambling to their feet. As Raziel disappeared into the crowd, the others decided to divide and search for their sire, and meet back here when he is found. Raziel hated how they teased and slighted him; even if it was true that he indeed held the favor of his master, he was not at fault, now was he? Raziel had always been better at following Kain's orders, and that of course made him more reliable. He knew they were just jealous. They all started out equal, in the beginning, all those centuries ago …

_The Sarafan encampment lie ahead, and Kain intended for it not to remain there. He had brought his six fledglings, knowing of all things, they needed the training and experience. The seven vampires spied the meager human camp from atop a great rock cliff, and from there, Kain gave orders to his awaiting sons. "Our enemy is below," he intoned, "yet do not underestimate these mortals. You may have every advantage over them, but that does not mean they will not try something foolish and surprise you." The elder vampire drew the serpentine blade of the Reaver._

_At this time, Kain had not evolved greatly; he still had the countenance of a mortal, yet strange and powerful talons had replaced his hands and feet. Raziel was the only one of his brothers to fully remember how Kain originally appeared before evolution's hand. His strong slender body, his high cheekbones, his sleek hair. The eldest lieutenant was in no way attracted to him, yet he could not deny the physical splendor of that man. He almost never wore a shirt, which only made watching him easier. Even now, changed as he had become, the way each muscle moved over and around each other seemed like an elegant ballet of tension and release. No matter how fast or erratic Kain moved, his muscles were always controlled and leveled. It was as if he had been born to be beyond all others, as if the fates had something special in mind for his master._

_The battle with the mortals raged and all was fine, yet Kain was not particularly pleased. Yes, they were all operating as according to his battle plan, but not in the way he wanted. He had hoped his younger fledglings had remembered something about fighting as Raziel appeared to do, but as the third hour of combat ensued, he knew it was merely the natural ability of his eldest. Now Kain had only the time to kill the Sarafan that his new sons either did not see or could not handle. He hated this; his whole unlife, he had always been on the offensive. Always. Yet now if he decided to execute anything of that sort, surely he would lose one of his sons. How much he hated this! He knew he had to think, had to conjure something to get them out of this predicament._

_Young Raziel, being the eldest and most experienced, quickly felled most Sarafan that approached him, Kain killing the ones he did not see. Yet even he knew they were going to be here quite a while if something is not done. They had battled their way past the gates, past the main buildings and were currently working their way through the supply houses toward the barracks. In the fray, many of the extra weapons and barrels full of oils and liquids of all sorts were spilt, making it slippery and easy to trip. The oils ran out under the walls and doors of the building and without doubt, into the streets and around nearby structures. He had an idea._

_Raziel dropped his sword to the ground, and upon hearing the splash of metal hitting oil, Kain rushed to his eldest's side, defending him from all attack. The other sons drew close to their sire to receive benefit from his killing blows as well. Raziel grabbed a nearby bow and quickly snatched an arrow volleyed at them not too long ago from the floor. His eyes darted around the room and finally found for what he was looking. A large rock used as an anvil squat in the far corner of the room. Raziel knew the most abundant strong rock in this area was flint, so humans here made everything out of it, from that makeshift anvil to arrowheads. He quickly launched his one chance at drastically turning the tides._

_It hit and the collision caused a great spark, which ignited the oil, the flames quickly rushing to all. Kain's golden eyes went wide. He threw the Reaver on his back and exploded into hundreds of bats, all of them ramming into the fledglings, pushing and lifting them. The great doors of the entrance burst open as the brothers were flung quite a distance from the building. As the flames completely engulfed the supply house and began to work on the nearby buildings, Kain materialized from his bat-form. Clearly,as from what they could see from their vantage point on the ground, their master was not in such a good mood. He grabbed Raziel by the shirt and hoisted him into the air, holding him eye to eye._

_"That was reckless," he growled. "You endangered us all with your suicidal plan!" Much to the trembling fledgling's awe, Kain then gave a broad smile. "Yet it was a good plan. You just have to make sure to tell us all what you intend to do." They all stared wide-eyed to their sire, surprised that Raziel was not going to die. The Sarafan had completely stopped fighting and were fleeing, many trapped or burning by the great raging fire. Kain furrowed his brow. "Truly you do not think me foolish enough to not adjust my plan as needed? Even if the adjustments are not exactly from me, if they are needed, they are needed."_

Since that day, Kain always at least listened to any suggestion Raziel had concerning his attack plans. He knew, now especially, how dangerous and impulsive that move was, but Kain seemed to like it for that. Raziel always figured he appreciated impromptu thinking.

A tall man walked by, awaking Raziel from his memory. A tall man, yes, and thick with muscle, but not disgustingly so, with skin a different color than all the mortals here. He followed where the man had gone, increasing his pace. For a moment, he was back within sight, his stride purposeful yet silent. Suddenly Raziel descended into another memory.

_The two men moved silently through the brush, the smaller clinging to the other's arm. It was a journey across one of the last veldts left in Nosgoth. A dangerous place to be, especially at night, yet Raziel had no worries; Kain was right beside him._

_He was young then, only a few days, but Kain figured it was time for them to leave the tomb and return to the mansion his sire had in Meridian. It was on this journey he saw a creature he will never forget._

_Something rustled the brush to the left of the two men. To the fledgling Raziel's surprise and fear, his sire stopped. Kain halting within the path of anything could not forebode good for their well-being. He tightened his grip around his master's moon pale arm and shuddered. Raziel felt a heavy slap on his shoulder and nearly jumped into his sire's arms. The elder vampire chuckled; it was just Kain's hand in a failed attempt to soothe. He looked questionably into the taller one's golden eyes, and received a smile in response._

_Some twenty yards, a sort of deer grazed lightly on the scraggily grass. Then, Raziel noticed it. Moving silently through the noisy brush, it stalked the deer with a resolve of the likes of which he had never seen. Crouching not ten feet away from its prey, it awaited the opportune moment to strike. Then it exploded into action, the large predatory cat flinging itself on top of the deer with teeth bared, driving its claws deep into its back._

He remembered it so well, even after all these centuries. The power. The grace. The resolve. Muscles gliding over and around each other. The beauty.

Kain.

Bt the time Raziel fully snapped back into reality, the vampire lord had already disappeared into the crowd again. He sighed in frustration; when his master did not want to be found, he always knew how to make himself scarce. He raised a brow as he mused; it seemed to him, his master was like that lone hunter. The years changed him more and more into that predator. His fangs and claws had become stronger, his build bigger, his golden eyes more intense and enigmatic, and his hair, despite how his master pinned it back in a futile attempt of civility, still seemed to be a great silvery mane. He shook his head; he really needed to pay attention to what he was doing. Once again, he walked through the multitude in hopes of finding Kain.

He found no such luck, and after some hours as the party began to die, he decided to return to the seats the locals had so graciously assembled for his master and brothers. Raziel met with Turel and Zephon along the way, and fortunately all the lieutenants thought the same and arrived at the same time to the languished chairs, only to find Kain lounging sideways in his, drinking from what seemed a wine bottle, with a vampiress sitting on the left arm of the seat!

"Oh, returning lieutenants, loyal and wayward!" he chimed, lifting the bottle into the air. Raziel aridly crossed his arms. "And for what do you grace me with this intrusion?"

Melchiah nervously shifted his weight, knowing they had all interrupted him. "Ah, sire," he stuttered, "we were just looking for you."

Kain blinked. "Oh? Think you not that I can fend myself?" The vampiress giggled.

Rahab furrowed his brow. Truly, no leader has ever been as well spoken as Kain, yet it had never been like this. He was now employing little used and known sentence structures and, dare he say, being poetic! Meter-wise! The older texts he had read in the great library had examples of such, however he had never heard anyone actually use it. Even Dumah noticed Kain was no longer all that sober. However, Zephon was amused; he had always loved how his sire put together sentences, and knowing he does better when he is drunk, just made him smile. Meanwhile, Raziel noted that the liquid Kain drank from the bottle was not sanguine, but clear. He was drinking alcohol straight, with no blood or anything! He shook his head; this can't be good.

The vampire lord turned his attentions to the scantily clad vampiress and stared at her blankly. She noticed this and decided to make a strategic move on her behalf, if he had not gotten the hint already. "Dear sire," she cooed, "how I do love to spend time close to you." She leaned closer with a sly expression. "Can it be possible to get any closer?"

Kain still just blankly regarded her. "Who are you?"

She scoffed at this. "I had told you my name not ten minutes ago!" she huffed. "And ten minutes before that!"

Kain snapped his talons. "That is right! You are Phillis!" he announced happily.

"That's a man's name!" she screamed, waving her arms in the air. Raziel snickered. "I am Liza! Look, Lord Kain, are we going to be together for this night or not!"

A deep shock the likes of which even his lieutenants had never seen surged through the elder vampire's face as he leaned back away from her. "You with me!" he asked, stunned. "I don't even know who you are!"

She was nearly tearing out her hair. "You do too!" The others were shuddering with suppressed laughter, even Turel who seemed to never do such a thing, now could barely contain himself.

Kain thought for a moment and cautiously asked, "Are you … Phillis?"

That was the last straw. The party over and her hopes now dashed upon the rocks, he hopped off the arm of his chair and roughly pushed through the cackling brothers. Luckily, they decided she had enough suffering at the hands of their master.

"Oi, my sons!" Kain called overly loud to his nearby lieutenants as if he never noticed them there. "How goes you? Did you find anything out about Lenny?"

Rahab placed his claws on his hips. "I asked about if anyone has heard of Henry James," he began, fairly certain that is who he meant, "and amazingly—"

"—they have," continued Melchiah. "He is actually a resident of one of this city's suburbs, the one name Fangoria. We could be at his domicile within the hour if you pleased, my lord."

He stood from his seat and nearly fell. Laughing after catching himself, he announced, "No. Deff-ff-inately not. Must go to bed first." He motioned with his arm for one of them to come to his aid. Raziel gladly positioned himself under his sire's arm and helped him walk towards their rooms. While they slowly made their way to the building in which they were staying, Raziel looked down into the face of his slouching lord. The anxious expression caused him some alarm.

"Sire, what is wrong?" This caught the attentions of the other lieutenants.

Kain grabbed his eldest's shoulder tightly and looked into his eyes, still distressed. "Somewhere, in some unseen time," he began, "there is a dead man and a squid arguing, and it is because of me." He gripped his silvery locks in distraught. "And the squid is winning!" Raziel increased his pace towards their rooms, regarding his sire with a raised brow. He definitely needed to go to bed.

Eventually the seven vampires arrived at their rooms, and all opted to sleep.

_

* * *

Raziel: Wow. That was a long one. _

_Yeah. I was like in the zone!_

_Kain: Thanks for making me look like an ass…_

_Just doing my job! Thought the sequence with you predicting the stress between the Elder God and Wraith Razzy was cute! And how did you like my poetry? On the hailing comment ('Oh ... intrusion?-Kain) I used elegaic couplet! That means it's poetic by meter; it's a Latin style, but that's what I know, so I used it! The second line is a palindrone in the terms of feet!_

_Kain: That is soooooo coooooool!_

_Raziel: You made me seem homosexual…_

_That is not my intention._

_Kain: Uh oh! Here it comes…_

_I believe it is possible to believe someone from the same sex is beautiful without being sexually attracted. The whole muscle thing came from me watching my cat run by as I wrote this. I love how each muscle works together to send him flying down my hallways. It is so wonderful to watch. But I am in no way attracted to my cat!_

_Bane: I'm attracted to your cat._

_0.o Anyways, it just got me an idea how to portray what I have been meaning to do since I first heard of yaoi. Just because Kain can have anyone does not mean he does—_

_Kain: Who do you think I am, Vorador?_

_--and just because Raziel is loyal to his master, doesn't mean he is willing to become his plaything! If that was true, wouldn't he also behave that way with his other master, the Elder God!_

_Raziel: 0.o (shiver) Trauma!_

_Well, enough of my rants. I hope to see you all again someday. Until then …_


	7. Redirect

_Hey guys! 'Sabi? Been a while, huh?_

_Kain: Quite. Where have you been?_

_(winces) After 4 months of pain and insult, the Navy decided they had no need for my services. (rubbing legs) AND ...(tada!) I've found my someone! Been working on that recently._

_Oh, and if I got the wrong guy for the red hair, please tell me!_

_Well, anyway, the long awaited ..._

**Chapter vii: Redirect**

He awoke slowly, as if his mind battled with his dreams which dare to claim him longer. Yet with some time, he rose, sitting upright and slightly slumped in his bed, the white satin sheets clinging lightly to his pale lithe form. A three-clawed hand gently rested against his weary golden eyes. The vampire's other glided over the bedsheets.

He stopped. These are not his bedsheets.

A quick glance about the room revealed his suspicion correct; no, this was not his room, his grandiose quarters with bold colors and beautiful objects made of precious metals, but it did hold it own pulchritude: A low light penetrated through the many ruinous slight drapes of gray that hung haphazardly over the large open window to his right, casting a somber glow within the small room as they stirred in the morning soft breeze. He remembered the party and felt calmer, continuing to study his surroundings. The arrays continued past the window, upon the walls, and suspended over the bed and ceiling. For an instant, the vampire felt as a great spider, protected and supreme in his silken nest.

His eyes followed left and saw the only furnishings in the whole room besides the bed; a small, daintily-crafted table stood against a great mirror with a sterling frame, adorned with a simple tin vase. So simple, yet magestic. He peered past the vase and into the mirror. His visage has always catched his interest. The vampire was not exceptionally vain, he just seemed to look strange to himself. His golden eyes were wide as he ran his claw through thick strands of jet hair. And that was the problem. His hair. Not the relative lack of length compared to all but one of his brothers, not the full body that gives his hair almost too much lift, but ...the color? Yes, that had to be it. He uncovered himself and swung his legs to edge of the bed towards the mirror, still staring. But what color? He thought back to earier times. After especially savage battles, he remembered how his and his brothers' hair would be soaked with blood and for weeks be stained with a red tint. His hair looked right then. But then again, his hair was also flatter as he has always wished it.

A faint cry caught his attention. "Zephon! Where are you?"

Oh well. So much for his musings. He got up off the bed with a bounce, his cloven feet meeting the cold marble tile, and spied his leather trousers and clan throe folded neatly on the ground at the foot of the bed. The vampire heard a slight scratching outside the window. He paid it no mind. Slipping into his pants, he walked towards the window to peer at the city. Yet instead of seeing buildings and the morning lit sky, he saw a blur of claws and white fur, and he screamed in excruciating pain.

* * *

The whole bottom floor of the Taleminos Mansion was dedicated to the atrium, since it had barely any girth, but plenty of floors. The grand staircase which led to these floors lay on the far side of the room. The atrium was decorated as most wealthy humans have it: rare tapestries and original paintings hung here and there, while masterly-carved cherrywood stands held small ceramic or pewter works of art. The walls were painted a deep cream which was accented by the lighting from the sconces positioned effectively around the large room. Yet most of the light came from the single masterwork brass chandelier, with every candle on it lit. Two dainty scarlet sofas sat in the center of the atrium, just below the chandelier, facing each other. On one sat Raziel, quite content to recline comfortably upon it, keeping his other brothers from sitting near him, whilst Rahab and Melchiah shared the other. Dumah and Turel seemed content to pace the grey marble floor, every so often impeding each other. 

A distant yet clear shout of pain echoed through the building.

"What was that?" Dumah asked as he looked over his shoulder at his brothers. The others turned to him and shrugged.

With a loud crash and curses flying, Zephon stumbled down the steps while twisting his torso, gripping a fuzzy white object at his face.

Raziel regarded him with slight disinterest. "What is that you have at your face?" he inquired while picking at a piece of fuzz on his clan throe. "A washcloth of some sort?"

The fourth born pried it loose with a yelp, fresh cuts littering his skin. "I wish! 'Tis that damned cat!" he growled as he dangled it in front of him by the scruff of its neck. He handed it to Dumah, who gave it a bit of a jiggle.

"The great Zephon, the lieutenant of Kain," The burly vampire teased as the kitten started his own rhythm of movement, "brought down by a cuddly, little--"

The kitten, having now enough inertia, flipped itself upon Dumah's arm, latching itself to him by biting down on his wrist, and began to tear into his flesh with all four paws. He screeched and let go, yet it still hung on to him like a snowy ball of fury, now starting to cut quite deeply into him. He frantically shook his arm, screaming at the little animal to let go, for god's sake! Raziel lept from the couch and rushed to his brother's aide; gripping the cat's scruff, he began pulling upon it, trying to be careful of both Dumah's arm and Kain's cat.

Eventually, Raziel managed to wreast it from his brother, throwing it off of Dumah. The kitten landed quite safely and scooted across the floor, attempting to stand and run.

Turel watched as the kitten scurried out of sight. "What an evil little creature."

Luckily, vampires have the ability to heal quickly, so they all were restored when a knock on the large carved oak doors came a few seconds later.

Turel answered the door, and behind it was a well-dressed human man. He bowed with a bit of a florish. "Our great Master, Lord Kain, requests your presence at the Mournfair library. If you would follow me, I shall take you there."

The lieutenants nodded in acknowledgement.

* * *

Kain was getting quite annoyed. He had been listening to the scholars of Mournfair babble for the last hour, yet it has got him no closer to his goal. Few things iritate the vampire lord more than irrelevent blether. He hautily sighed to himself and rested his chin in his right claw. One whole hour lost sitting in this simple leather chair in the cluddered back office of the library, being bombarded by frivolous words of these clods sitting in other simple leather chairs. Not to mention he was still battling a headache from last night's festivities. If only his lieutenants would hurry and arrive. 

"If you like his works, perhaps you would like Frederick D'eaux." smiled one of the scholars. "He is this strapping chap who _blah blah blah_..."

Then again, this place really was not all that displeasing once one ignores the people here, Kain surmised. The book shelves that lines nearly every inch of the walls, although unkempt, gave the office a distinct laboratory feel to it; as if any minute, the great academicians of Nosgoth would bust into this place to research into their palatial experiments and discoveries. Even the thin layer of dust over some paper and books added a sort of arcane aura to the room.

A knock upon the one door leading in or out was heard, and from behind it stepped the servant of the scholars and the six brothers.

"Finally," mumbled Kain as he rose from the chair. The scholars stood out of reverence.

Rahab, guessing their sire had met with these humans to discuss Henry James, decided to inquire of their next move. "Lord, what is the word for our little excursion?"

When Kain turned to him, Rahab was taken aback. Instead of the staid expression he always wore, the vampire lord was visibly annoyed. This was not good. He remembered every time he looked as such, some poor mortal fool met his untimely end. He cared not for humans, yet he did not believe this place has total submission to Kain's rule, and killing someone who did nothing could be quite a problem; after all, here is a whole city of men, but only seven vampires.

"Henry James is not in Fangoria at this time," the elder vampire aridly huffed. "He has taken a little excursion, as you have said, of his own, and will not be back for a week or two." The lieutenants quickly drew back as their sire strode out of the room and into the main library chamber, his sons following him.

Two of the scholars rushed to the doorway of the office and leaned toward the retreating vampires. "Lord Kain!" one called. "Since you have time to kill, why don't you check the Arena about Certamen?

Kain stopped and turned to regard the mortals.

"Certamen is a competition of strength, speed, and wits," the other explained. "Our fair city has been hosting this event for quite some time now, and," the scholar's voice began to weaken as the vampire's expression did not change, "I thought you might be interested."

The overlord returned to leaving. "I guess."

The scholars' contenances brightened.

Outside the tall stone building of the library, Kain paused and took a deep breath. His eyelids slid shut. A clean light breeze whipped loose strands of silver about him as the sun shone quite brightly, casting a white haze over everything; the cover of the smoke seen in the distant southeast. I was days like this which reminded him of how much he hated the sun. He reopened his eyes and took one last look on the drab outer walls. Kain blinked. There was graffiti carved into the stone. Walking towards it, he read what it had to say. 

_A portal spawns from every choice consummated_

_To loose beyond its gates angels or demons.  
What doth thine will sayeth?_

Kain smiled and carved back.

_How can one trust his engrossing choice _

_If free will eludes all, even the wisest?  
No will means no choices._

Satisfied of his proclamation, he strolled down the steps of the library's entrance and headed for the Arena.

"Sire," asked Turel, "what did your response mean?"

He remained silent, a hint of sadness in his eyes.

_

* * *

Whew! glad to get that off me! Hate this new formatting, though._

_Kain: Loon's back! (cuddles kitten)_

_He'll come in handy later! (wink)_

_Please review!_


	8. Certamen Celeri

_On a roll! Here's another chappy! Most of the towns are made up; I figure more towns would spring up in Nosgoth eventually..._

_Certamen celeri - the competition of speed_

_Certameni Dormitor - the conquerer of the games_

**Chapter viii: Certamen Celeri**

The Arena was as grand as its name suggested. Situated next to the Lake of Tears, the great sturcture stretched nearly two hundred feet along the shore, and was four levels high. The craggy gray stone used to build this had centuries worth of weather upon it, from small tuffs of weeds growing in between cracks to the dust of the degrading rock which no matter how often the locals cleaned, would never be removed completely. Yet this was just what could be viewed from the standpoint of the Mourfair; upon following the entrance lane to within the stone edifice, it is revelaed as merely half a building, an august and delicately carved stadium with many rows of seats and flights of steps. The rows were elevated, and before the first, a great six foot flagstone wall sparated the structure from the actual arena.

The outstetching shore filled the entire field, making a natural flooring for athletic play. Equipment of various training purposes hung from wooden racks scattered around the field, some of which were currently being used by brawny mortals. In the center of the arena, a lone tanned man dressed in nothing but a leather pair of trousers stood and watched all the trainees, his back towards the entranceway.

That man was quite taken aback when he heard a deep euphonic voice behind him. "Are you the Head Taskmaster? Tell me of the event that will take place here."

The Taskmaster did not turn, his dark eyes as cross as his arms were across his chest. "Ye don't know, do ye? It has only been happening every four years for the last _millenium_!" he snooted. Yet, sighing, he knew that some of the athletic types needed to be reminded. "This is the Arena," he began, punctuating with his arms, "and every four years an event called Certamen is held for five days. On each day, a different skill is tested: the first day is speed, the next is strength, then agility, constitution, and finally, wisdom."

The voice behind him pondered these words and answered, "Where do I go to participate?"

Once again, the Taskmaster snorted. "Are ye kidding? Certamen is tomorrow; Participants signed up _weeks ago_! It is too late," he spat as he turned to meet this fool, "ye big, overgrown, son of a-"

Instead of the likely dull features of a mortal, the Taskmaster found himself staring directly into another man's quite well-built pectorals. His brow furrowed; the skin was wrong. Instead of the deep tan that all athletes carry, his skin could be considered pale behind the olive tones. He slowly traced the man with with his eyes as he began to visually scrutinize him. Broad shoulders toted a red scarf thrown back on the right. _Strong enough to hold the weight of the world_, he mused. He continued to survey, up the powerful yet graceful neck and onward. The Taskmaster's dark eyes widened in fear. Molten gold orbs met his, glowing in ire, accommpanied by a cruel face, lines and creases tracing an unhappy expression. A regal mane of the purest silver framed this visage, lightly dancing on the lake breeze.

"What was that, human?" the vampire lord acidly spat as he hauled the frightened mortal up to his face. The Taskmaster's bowels released.

Sour expressions crept over the lieutenants' faces as the smell reached them. "This one took longer than most," Rahab mused.

Kain dropped the mortal in disgust. "Are you keeping count?" Zephon snickered at this remark, but was sharply silence by his master. Smiling, Kain turned his attentions to the Taskmaster, still on the floor and curled upon himself.

* * *

The first day of Certamen had finally arrived, and every able-bodied mortal in the area packed themselves in every row. The field had been cleaned of its equipment from yesterday, and instead a great track was carved into the sand, stretching from near the entranceway for the athletes into the field, along the stone wall, just before the waterline of the lake, and back again. A sturdy man dressed in robes of scarlet and with a laurel crown protruding from his flowing ebony hair, stepped forth onto the field, and in a grand ceremonious march, he reached the center where a wooden step squatted in the sand. With a flamboyant whirl of his vestments, he stood upon it and cried out in a booming voice, "Let Certamen begin!" 

The great multitude cheered, throwing colorful ribbons and other celebratory baubles into the wind.

"This sacred competition of peace as been held since the second reign of the Sarafan, and in honor of our heroes and heroines of old, we continue in this celebration of skill. Today," the man continued, "our champions will endure a challenge against time as well as each other. Each man must run this path within the allotted time, lest they be disqualified. The faster this task is completed, the more points given; as it is known, the man with the most points claims the title of Certameni Dormitor," the man announced as he took the crown from his head and held it high, "and claims this sacred laurel."

The man turned to his right, where three workers were assembling an oversized hourglass, except this one operated on water. As the man spoke, the clock was completed and set for the appropriate countdown time. "Only twelve minutes is allowed to complete this track of two miles." With a sweeping motion of his arms, he called, "And now, it is time to meet our champions!"

Once again, the mortals of Nosgoth gave rowdy joyous exclamations, anxious to see their heroes.

"Lancet, hailing from Noctelville!" A slim young man with cropped black hair stepped from the competitors' entranceway and gleefully waved at the cheering crowds. "He single-handedly defended his beloved village from the attacks of an acid demon." Lancet adusted his simple shirt and trousers and took his place at the starting line as the scarlet robed man continued. "Shade, hailing from the northern mountains!" Burly and slow, the tanned older man sauntered next to Lancet in a deerskin loincloth, ignoring the audience. "A mountainman, he has survived in the wilds of the mountains alone for forty-five years. Alisa, of Meridian." A lithe woman wearing a tight pearly blouse entered, her light blue skirt ending about halfway down her thigh, and strode confidently to the line, her curly blonde hair catching the breeze. "This beautiful huntress is said to have chased a werewolf through the forests and killed it. Darnek, hailing from right here in Mournfair!" A tall and liverspotted bald man stepped forth, his wrinkles clearly seen even from a distance, wearing a simple white robe, the trademark of a Mournfair scholar. "This warmage has been reputed as the wisest mortal alive."

The announcer took a deep breath. "And last, but surely not least, already a great man, and the Master of us all. He has solved countless puzzles, won even more battles, and is said to have the ability to escape even the most terrible of situations imaginable with his life, if not victory." The audience began to murmur to themselves, asking each other if they had even heard of such a man. "Give a grand ovation to the divine, the invincible," his arm trembled as he guided the audience's gaze to the athlete's entrance, "Lord Kain!

The overlord stepped into view from the darkness of the stone entranceway. Glancing to the audience, he noted that cheers only came from the special seats reserved for the nobility, currently occupied by his six sons. Raziel stood irate, noticing what his sire did, as his brothers continued, and icily glared from left to right.

"Well?"

The mortals finally resounded elations, which Kain knew were feined, and he took his place at the starting line. The other competitors looked upon him in shock and awe as he voiced a velvety greeting.

The announcer recognized this as the time to start the race, yet he could not do it, for the audience still elated and cheered, afraid to stop lest they face their vampiric lord's wrath. Raziel, now noticing the announcer's predicament, once again stood and glared at the surrounding humans, and they quickly silenced themselves.

Taking his cue, the man in the scarlet vestments raised his arms in a theatrical display. "Let us begin!" The three workers positioned themselves around the great water-clock, two working together to start it, the last watching the time. "Upon my proclamation of the start of this race, each competitor must follow the track around the field to the finishline in twelve minutes. Failure to stay within the track or complete the race in the allotted time will result in automatic disqualification. Also, use of any magic, bodily force, or anything else not dealing with your feet, in hinderance to any other competitor, or for your own sake, will result in disqualification."

The announcer now addressed the competitors. "Are the champions of Nosgoth ready?" Each mortal took their starting positions to maximize their speed, while Kain just casually glanced about the Arena, rubbing his thumb against his claw. "And... GO!"

The humans shot from the starting line, with Alisa in front and Shade far behind. Kain finished his contemplation of a passing cloud, and decided to begin. He obviously was not straining himself to win, and was passing Shade and Darnek with ease. As he approached the conclusion of the first bend in the track, and Lancet, Kain realized in the time it took to start this race, the tides of the Lake of Tears had flowed out further onto the shore, completely covering the track. Realizing he could not jump the entire distance, he stopped to assess his options as Darnek passed him.

There was none. Unless he decided to use his magic or dark gifts, he could not stay upon the track without burning his feet, yet using such abilities would disqualify him; how embarrassing it will be if he was disqualified for _cheating _in a _mortal_ competition! Kain would not accept defeat, for surely he would formulate a plan and proceed.

Shade finally passed Kain, at a slow gallop. Looking ahead and realizing he was only ahead of the stationary opponent, he decided to quicken. As he tried to gain speed through the flowing and ebbing of the waves, he lost balance and fell face first into the surf. Kain had found his chance. He lepped into the air, and with vampiric precision, he planted both of his cloven feet onto the back of Shade's rather large skull, burying his face in the wet sand. Using him as leverage, he sprung himself back into the air, rolling into his landing , and rebounded himself upright and back into his stride at the beginning of the last bend. Shade pulled himself from the mire and cursed.

As he passed Darnek and the last bend, he greatly quickened his pace, shooting past a very surprised Lancet. Kain's stride became longer, his gallop resembling that of a gazelles. Soon he found himself running beside Alisa, whose body was almost parallel to the sands as she stretched her arms out behind her. She looked to the vampire overlord with a clear message within her baby blue eyes.

_You may be a vampire and our lord, but I will fight for this!_

Kain responded with a nod, and smiled to himself.

The finish line was fast approaching, and Alisa pushed herself beyond what she thought possible, to speeds she never knew she could reach.

She was just fast enough to keep in front of the dust cloud behind Kain.

The audience gave a great cry of excitement as he skidded to a halt, digging a claw into the sand for extra friction. Alisa collapsed onto the track, exhausted from strain. Eventually all the competitors finished the race, and even Shade made it across with a few seconds to spare.

Once everyone had finished, the announcer exclaimed excitedly,"Lord Kain wins!" The crowd still roaring from the race, the scarlet clad man continued his assessment. "As first place, Lord Kain receives one hundred points! Our second fastest champion, Alisa, has scored seventy-five points; Lancet, fifty points; Darnek, twenty-five; and finally Shade, who received zero points." Shade cursed again.

"Amazingly, none of our competitors have been disqualified, so tomorrow's task should be quite the spectacle!"

Lancet, deciding to be the gentleman of the group, carried Alisa, and the five champions exited the field through the same tunnel they used to enter, while the crowd threw ribbons and confetti into the air.

_

* * *

Great race, Kain!_

_Kain: You did not actually believe I would lose to mortals, did you?_

_R&R!_


End file.
